


Forgotten but not Gone

by patchworkgirl



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood and Injury, Dinosaurs, Found Family, Gen, also bio family but sometimes that sucks, haircare, missing memories, weird necromancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-12-30 13:10:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12109425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchworkgirl/pseuds/patchworkgirl
Summary: The particulars of the Stolen Century may be erased, but bits and pieces remain to our heroes. The vanished past informs the present. In Part 1, Taako recalls some general parenting skills, if not their source. In Part 2, Magnus gives mildly helpful advice. Part 3, Barry contemplates the complexities of being a concerned bystander. Part 4, Dupree is rad, natch. Part 5, hair care routines can be central to one's identity.





	1. His Life Was the Mission

“ _Sorry, sir, just one more ques—”_

 

“ _Cupcake, if you don't close your mouth and go to sleep I'm casting silence on this room and walking away.”_

 

“ _It's just one thing, though.”_

 

“ _How many people do you think have ever successfully gotten a bedtime story out of me? Just take a guess, Master Detective McGee.”_

 

“ _I just wondered why you told a Gnomish story.”_

 

“ _...I did?”_

 

“ _Well, I hadn't heard it before, but the folkloric structure is pretty unique, all the sisters' names were pretty Gnomish, and, well, I just wondered. I know you're not very in contact with your elven roots.”_

 

“ _You can say that again.”_

 

“ _But why that instead?”_

 

“ _I don't know, kid. I probably got it off a bard or something.”_

 

“ _So you don't remember where you learned it?”_

 

“ _I was probably drunk at the time.”_

 

“ _That seems like an inappropriate thing to tell me, sir.”_

 

“ _Yeah, yeah, go the fuck to sleep, poppet.”_

 

Davenport usually found even dangerous storms invigorating. Few things were as satisfying to pitch his wits against. Nature's fury versus the intrepid captain. But he couldn't enjoy this one. All the sturm and drang might well be covering the approach of the snake cultists that'd been hunting the crew since they'd landed on this continent. Worse, if there were any other survivors out there, this decaying, half-buried farmhouse would be even harder to find. Barry and Lucretia were still unaccounted for, and it was hard to get his hopes up too high about the bookish humans, but there was a chance.

 

He'd seen Merle fall himself. Magnus and Lup, well, technically he didn't have it confirmed, but a glance at Taako huddled in the corner told him what to think.

 

The kid hadn't spoken since he'd stumbled in out of the storm, a broken wand in one hand, one of Magnus's spare daggers shaking in the other. The dagger was the least bloody thing about him. He'd fled quickly to his defensible corner, but Davenport was pretty sure not too much of the blood was his own. He was a mess, but his own wounds were mostly superficial, aside from the hand that held the broken wand. That was crushed at the very least, and might have been missing a few bits. He wouldn't let the captain close enough to see.

 

Neither of the twins was close to him. He was always captain first, and they were a couple of kids, even if chronologically they weren't actually much younger than he was. Lup was just a bit guarded about being friendly, but Taako clearly regarded him with the deep, aimless suspicion he'd seen plenty of times from the kind of kid with authority problems. Unwisely, he had never really tried to fix that, figuring they had time enough, and the wizard did what had to be done.

 

Now the two of them might be the only ones left, with months to go on this world and no healer, the Starblaster in enemy territory. Taako'd have to pull it together or he'd be left behind.

 

That was the captain speaking. Davenport had a lot of conversations like this. Without Merle or Barry around there was no one he could really hash out decisions, and the imagined dialogues between the man and the officer helped. The captain would have to leave the kid. Davenport wasn't going to let that happen.

 

“Hey. Hey, Taako?” His voice low and even, like he was soothing one of his grandmother's doves in a storm. He'd never known if the talking helped the birds at all, but it helped keep the person calm, and a frightened creature could feel that. “You need to let me see your hand, okay?”

 

The dark eyes flickered toward him, narrow shoulders bunched up tighter (and a horrid, shuddering wince went through the elf that meant the pain was serious, the wound might be as bad as it looked or worse), but no real answer. Okay. New tactic. “How about the knife? Can I have that?” He was faintly worried Taako might hurt himself by accident, but mostly he just wanted to gain a point, any point, no matter how meaningless. If they could get talking, maybe they could move past this semi-catatonic shock.

 

He saw immediately that this had been a bad call. Taako pulled the dagger in close, looking haunted, ears tipping down as far as they'd go with animal terror. Davenport moved away a few inches immediately. In his same dove-voice, he asked, “Magnus gave you that?” Finally, Taako looked at him and seemed to see him. The slightest nod. Something. “In case you got separated?” Nothing. “Did you run out of spells?” Nod.

 

Okay, this was getting better. “Guy takes pretty good care of...” He tried to keep the pause short while he looked for the right way to put it. “You.” If Taako had a friend besides his sister, it was the security officer. The boys matched each other for maturity if not years, snickered to each other over mild witticisms and banal vulgarities. The mad decade and change they'd lived through, the unfathomable time that might lie ahead of them, that had dragged everybody close on some levels, but Taako was a hard nut to crack, and Magnus had done it if anyone had. “You know what, you hang onto that. But maybe put it down, okay? It's sharp.”

 

For a moment he thought he'd made it worse again, but after a few heavy heartbeats Taako slowly set the dagger on the floor beside him. Davenport swallowed and waited a little longer. Then... “Did they get him?” He was sure the answer was yes, so if Taako gave him an answer, he'd be able to gauge how well this was going.

 

Nod.

 

“You can give it back at the start of next cycle, right?” A few possibilities came to mind that Davenport bit down on. He wasn't talking to a child, just trying to move Taako out of this debilitating reaction so at least two of them would stay alive long enough to get out of here. So he didn't say Magnus would be proud, even if it was probably true. And he didn't think Taako was ready for him to ask about Lup. Stumped, he was silent for a moment.

 

And then Taako spoke. He was hoarse, not just subdued. Like he'd been screaming. “He said they'd have to go through him to get to me.”

 

“Sounds like Magnus.” Was that why this was so bad? Not that Taako wasn't in bad shape, but they'd all seen bad shape before. Been hurt, been exhausted, been frightened. Maybe the guilt was new. Magnus Burnsides lived his live constantly on the edge of some great personal sacrifice. He'd jump between an assailant and a friend's really good sandwich. But Taako (and even Lup) still seemed to mistrust kindness on a fundamental level.

 

Taako was silent again and this time Davenport let him have the moment on purpose. Maybe, _maybe_ he'd creep out of this shell on his own given a little space. He just went on being quiet, and Davenport started to worry just a bit, but then he seemed to... It wasn't relaxing. There was too much pain for that. Uncoiling.

 

Davenport edged closer to the very small fire he'd built in the remains of the ruin's hearth, giving space without taking his attention off the kid. When Taako did speak again, he kept his expression neutral. “We went back to look for Lup.”

 

Not a big surprise. “Did you find her?”

 

“Yeah.” His voice broke. “Too late.” Davenport remembered what he'd been like the other time Lup had died. Morose, uncommunicative, mean, but not like this. That time there'd only been weeks left in the cycle, and it had happened quickly, while Taako was with Lucretia on a supply run. He'd never had to see his sister dead.

 

“Hey.” Davenport had to resist the urge to reach for him. Skittish and hurt and never exactly an affectionate person. It'd probably do more harm than good. “Not your fault.” Nothing. “Magnus wasn't your fault, either.”

 

Taako looked him in the eye. It was to glare, but it was something. “I mean it, kid.”

 

“I fucked up.”

 

“Probably.” Davenport shook his head. “Nobody's at their best like this and hindsight's a sick bastard. Maybe you could have done something differently. Maybe that would have gone just as badly.”

 

“But—”

 

“You want to make it up to them, you get a chance next cycle. No one but us gets that chance.” He bit his tongue. Too direct. Tough love could be useful, but tough anything was too much a constant in the twins' life to get through. “You get to see them again soon, okay?”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

“And then you can apologize for whatever it is.” He'd eventually have to find out what, though he could guess it was something to do with Taako burning through his magic reserves and not having a backup plan. The captain needed to know the particulars, but he could wait for the worst of it to fade. Hopefully for the others to be back. “Can I see the hand, Taako?”

 

He inhaled sharply and paled as he moved it. A cursory examination suggested nothing good. Something heavy and nasty had landed on it, probably a cultist's spiky club. He suspected Taako could have avoided at least some of the damage if he'd let go of the wand—hard to tell if it had been broken before or by the same blow. “Not sure I can save this without Merle.”

 

“S-so I get to look really cool until this one's over, huh?”

 

Davenport smiled in relief. There was the Taako he knew. “I'd say you'd be at least five percent more likely to intimidate the average person if you tried. But I'm still gonna try and put some of this back together if I can.” Not least because he didn't have anything like the right tools for a field amputation. “Here, put this away.” He held up a half-full hip flask. Taako took it, managing to stop looking agonized long enough to raise an eyebrow.

 

“Seriously, Cap'nport?”

 

“You've met everyone I have to deal with, right? Drink up.” Taako hesitated a moment and then downed the contents much more quickly than his captain strictly speaking liked to see. That had not been good booze. The burn alone should have slowed the kid down. “While you wait for that to kick in, get out of this wet stuff.” Davenport wound up having to cut off the jacket entirely to get around the hand, and by the time the soaked and bloodied outer layer was off, Taako was clearly feeling the alcohol. Advantages to a weedy patient. Davenport had him bite down on a handkerchief and between that and the booze, there wasn't any actual screaming while the hand was cleaned and bandaged. Some of the fingers might make it.

 

Davenport half-carried Taako closer to the fire when the worst was over, half-conscious and shivering miserably. But he let himself be moved, he tried to help, he even muttered something that might have been thanks. And Davenport barely felt his own exhaustion as he eased Taako's head onto his bag. This might be all the crew he had for the rest of the year, and that didn't seem so bad now.

 

But fuck, he looked young. It was a moment's impulse that opened his mouth. “You ever hear the story of the Hummingbird Princess?” Taako didn't really give him a word in return, but his little noise was questioning. “Once a mother and her three daughters lived on a farm with three goats and three pigs. One day, the oldest daughter went to her mother and said she would like to seek her fortune...”

 


	2. You Nailed It

_Magnus stuck his head around the corner into the Voidfish's room. “Hey, Johann, Taako and Pringles got into some kinda magic duel and stuff got weird and a pair of my socks got multiplied like fifty times, so, like, do you want some socks? Not a lotta people here will fit, but Killian took some and you're kinda tall, right?”_

 

“ _Huh?” Johann looked over from staring at the Voidfish with a look that was marginally more absent than usual. “You... have weird problems.”_

 

“ _I don't know if it's a problem, more like a puzzle, and to solve it I have to find sock homes. That's not so bad.” No answer. Magnus waited a moment. “So, like, should I leave you a couple, or...?”_

 

“ _Sure, I guess.”_

 

“ _You seem more bummed than the amount of bummed you usually are,” Magnus said after a moment's pause. “You wanna Taako 'bout it?”_

 

_That at least got the bard's attention. “Um, is he here or something?”_

 

“ _Uh, nope, he just does that goof so often I kinda forgot it's not the real words. Seriously, though, composer's block? Harp out of tune? Fishy got tentacle-pox?”_

 

_Johann sighed, which was always a big production, and shrugged. “Just had the same argument for like the fifth time. Bullshit fatigue.”_

 

“ _With... the Voidfish?”_

 

“ _Yeah, Magnus, the Voidfish and I have really different perspectives on the best approach for progressive tax policy reform in Neverwinter and we just keep circling the same ideas, and it's a mutually respectful thing, but kind of draining, you know?” At least he looked a little more animated. “Avi just keeps trying to drag me to every dumb social night they have.”_

 

“ _And that's... bad?”_

 

“ _After the first couple times, yeah, kind of annoying. He knows it's not my scene.”_

 

“ _Aw, c'mon, I've seen you keep a crowd all enthralled and shit.”_

 

“ _Performing and small talk are very different things.”_

 

“ _Fair. But, like, it's not like you_ hate _people, right? And, y'know, he likes you and wants you to have fun. It's not like he's doing it to bug you.”_

 

“ _I guess.”_

 

“ _I mean, you totally do wanna hang out with him.”_

 

“ _Uh, well, I mean, I guess I, um...”_

 

“ _Everyone wants to hang with Avi! He's super cool.”_

 

“ _Yeah. Yeah, Magnus, that's exactly it, it'll be a whole... wholesome... hangout party.”_

 

“ _Right. So, like, he's the party guy, you're the quiet chill with a couple buddies guy, those guys can totally hang. You just gotta meet him halfway, be honest about when it's not fun but maybe try and find stuff that works for both of you.”_

 

“ _You... y'know, Magnus, you're not a guy I'd associate with emotional intelligence, and I do kinda wonder how you're this dumb and this smart at the same time, but, y'know, thanks.”_

 

“ _No problem, my guy. You want some socks or not?”_

 

“Hey! Hey, hey, Lucretia, why're you all the way back over here?” Magnus came staggering up with a cider in each hand. Lucretia looked up from the high-sided booth she'd sequestered herself in and scooted her papers subtly to the side in case of spills. “You're missing the party!”

 

“I just wanted to get through everything the Village Elders told us. We've never seen the Light behave this way before.”

 

“But... but we beat up that squid thingy. It's calamari now.”

 

“We've been doing that joke all day. Please stop. Let it die like the squid.” Lucretia shook her head, smiling faintly. “It's still important. And Lup was a little... overzealous, so we don't really have any samples left. I'd rather know what to do if this happens in some other world, wouldn't you?”

 

“Uh... Sure, yeah, I guess, but, c'mon, victory party. Come dance!”

 

“I did.” Lucretia took a deep breath, appraising the slightly tipsy Magnus before her, looking so puppyishly enthusiastic. “I just need a breather, so I might as well get some work done.”

 

“Breather from what? It's actually a pretty big room so it's not really crowded.”

 

“It's just, you know, loud, lot of people, lot of things I just need to recharge from.” He still looked perplexed. “Is one of those for me?”

 

Magnus looked surprised when he realized he was holding a second cider, but he handed it right over. “Sure. So, but, like, it's a party. It's fun.”

 

“How's it going in there?”

 

“Pretty cool. Cap'nport is beating the pants off the local darts champion, Merle's teaching a bunch of people a weird Merle dance, Lup punched a guy and threw up on his shoes and then they started making out, so that's kinda weird.”

 

“Aw, poor Barry.”

 

“Ch'yeah, duh, right? How could anybody miss that.”

 

“I'm sure they'll work it out.”

 

“When?”

 

“Good question.” Lucretia smiled and closed her journal. “So what've you been up to? Just sampling the local brews?”

 

“They're real good, right? But nah, there's not-weird-Merle-dancing, too, and a bunch of people wanted to hear the whole story again, and me and Taako did a dramatic reenactment and turned a bunch of spoons into tentacles. Also weird.”

 

“I'd say we can't take the twins anywhere, but apparently the captain is too busy gambling to have an opinion, so I'm not going to start.”

 

“Okay, I don't think he's even winning money, though, I think it's just the thrill of humiliating people.”

 

“Did you dance with anyone nice?” Lucretia smiled just a little knowingly.

 

“I guess, maybe, like, a couple people. They were all cool. You wanna try it?”

 

“I think I've done all the breathing I need to do.” Lucretia downed the rest of her cider in an impressive gulp. “Can you recommend me anyone?”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure, there's this like, four-person partner switchy thingy these two girls taught me and Lup, we can find them again or some other people. So, y'know, you won't be all on your own.”

 

“Thanks, Mags, that's a nice thought.”

 

“You wanna put your stuff in my new bag of holding? So it won't get spilled on or anything.”

 

“That'd be great.”

 


	3. Like Some Sorta Goobus

_Barry wanted out of this town. It had seemed like a good prospect; lots of traffic in and out, kind of pretty countryside with rolling hills tending toward majestic peaks, lot of people. The kind of place he might be able to find the kind of rumors the coin told him to look out for if only by sheer law of large numbers._

 

_But the vibes were bad. Sure, there were a lot of people, but they kept their heads down, only talked to familiar faces or very guardedly. All the travel was commercial, wagons moving goods around in a very straightforward, utilitarian way. And, everywhere, people in fancy uniforms that made everyone around them look at their shoes and say deferential things._

 

_Whoever was in charge was a dick. Pretty easy explanation, rough on these people, not Barry's problem. He'd just find someplace for a drink and a meal and go. He could camp outside the city._

 

_He was heading for a promising looking inn when an argument caught his ear. Someone wasn't looking at their shoes. He turned toward the voices, noting that everyone around them did not and he was making himself stand out. No help for it._

 

_There were two people in the fancy uniforms and only one young lady in ordinary leathers and a heavy toolbelt. Her wagon was full of furniture. It looked like really nice furniture to him, not that he could have elucidated much more on the subject, and that might have been what caught the guards' eyes._

 

_He didn't have to know anything about the details to quickly deduce that she'd already paid some kind of tax or fee and they were trying to get it out of her again. Increasingly nonsensical reasons the paperwork was out of order that didn't agree from one moment to the next, smug smirks, the woman looking increasingly torn between punching them and crying._

 

_Barry considered blasting them in some fashion—he never knew how those blasts would work out, but they were pretty effective—or hitting them with a sword a few times. Both solutions might be messy for him, but he had his ways out. The problem was they'd probably also be messy for her. People selling chairs in a city ruled by a colossal dick were not people who'd get out of being blamed because a crazy passerby had been the one to start the fight._

 

_Help people the way they need to be helped. Wisdom from the coin—wisdom the coin attributed to_ her _. Barry didn't trust the coin on everything sometimes, but whenever it talked about her, he knew it was important._

 

_Barry let the crowd carry him a bit past the young woman and her pair of extortionists, pretended to trip, and ducked down to mess with his bootlace. Not a great performance, but no one was paying attention to him. Once he was on the ground, he could see the feet of one of the guards through a gap in the stack of crates between them. He checked quickly. The crates were full of bolts of cloth. Good. He didn't want to risk this one around anything people might eat. A slim bolt of ugly green light slithered along the ground between Barry's hand and the guard._

 

_The guy immediately lost his lunch. Not a hard spell, when he could get it to work, but not very useful most of the time. Minor poison damage didn't do that much when you had a bunch of goblin bandits on your ass, but that had been really fucking satisfying. Barry listened with amusement as the guard tried to save face and was hustled off in a hurry._

 

_He considered nodding to the girl as he got up, but it was probably a bad idea. He just walked by again to make sure. An older woman carrying a basket of apples was talking to her quietly, and she looked rattled (and pissed), but seemed to have regained control of her wares._

 

_Better get out of Raven's Roost before he ended up starting a real fight._

 

Barry sat alone in a rare chair as other candidates milled around. He strongly suspected IPRE was doing this to psyche them out. There had to be better ways to manage all the tests and challenges that every potential crew member had to go through, but all this high stakes chaos made everybody edgy and competitive.

 

He wasn't at all concerned about his knowledge, his interviews, his capability. He might kind of die if he had to sit out here while thirty strangers who all wanted the job he needed so badly all made hostile small talk much longer.

 

But his own social awkwardness was a pretty minor factor. Some of these people were young, fresh from the university system or not even that. And he wouldn't be surprised at all if some of the bigger fish fancied themselves sharks. There wasn't nearly the competition for the Science Officer as for some positions. He'd heard there were over a hundred for Security. But maybe the smaller pool made for more personal nastiness.

 

Maybe this was a test, too.

 

He rocked out of his chair when he realized one of the kids looked about to cry. He remembered the halfling's face from a poster presentation, great mind, very timid. Cracking under real stress happened. Cracking because a couple of colossal dicks he knew were research scooping glory hounds who'd probably turn on each other next was not.

 

Barry had opened his mouth to tell them to back off when a lightbulb exploded on the ceiling above them. That happened sometimes. Things overheated. Interestingly, Barry noted, all the glass fell perfectly harmlessly, outlining people's feet.

 

“Crap, what the everloving shit was that?” The speaker swept in past Barry and past the academic equivalent of lunch money thieves so fast she didn't immediately resolve into a person, remaining a burst of fluttering blue and barely tamed dark hair for a long moment. “Fuck, wait, you're Sildar Hallwinter, aren't you? You probably don't remember me, I was in the College of Arcana, but that fucktastic celestial transit generator project? I was one of the consultants on our end of campus.”

 

“Um.” The halfling swallowed, nodded, and then nodded more emphatically. “Yeah, Lup, I remember.”

 

“Sweet. The was one I was really sorry to leave. Has there been a lot more work done?”

 

“Yeah.” No stammering. “We got efficiency up another five percent.”

 

“Amaaaaazing.” Lup swung out a hang for emphasis and just happaned to thwack one of Sildar's bullies in the shoulder. “Whoa, personal space, Captain Nobody.”

 

Barry wasn't sure how that was going to work out, but apparently this whirlwind given elven form was too much to resist no matter how many grants you'd bullshitted your way through. In another moment, Sildar was gone, too, looking better but still not delighted to be here.

 

In all likelihood, Barry should have gone, too, but he was too busy staring. He'd heard wizards described as radiating power before, but he'd never taken that as more than poetic license. She was small and spindly and, well, an elf, but he had no doubt she could fuck up anything and anybody she wanted to. Her dress, well, what did he know about clothes, but he did know about structural engineering, and he could see it had probably started life as something much older and much less awesome, probably a curtain, and a skillful hand had transformed it into a lovely, formal, impressive gown that also allowed her to swoop like a bird of prey. No jewelry, just magical sparkles on all the spots where it'd go if you could afford it. She looked ready for an opera, not just impressing people at the premiere academic institution in the world.

 

And she'd just done... whatever that was. “Uh, thanks,” he said, to justify his gaping. “I, um, I was—”

 

“You were gonna make it rougher on him, sweetie. I know you meant well, but people don't always need saving, exactly.” She smiled like the red sky at morning. Sailor, take warning. “He's probably gotta keep dealing with those guys. If you were friends, maybe, sure, but you gotta help people the way they need to be helped.”

 

“Oh.” He saw her point. “Yeah, makes... makes sense. You, uh, you in the running for the Arcana thing, then?”

 

“Yeah, they let us out a couple minutes ago. Probably figure they sweated you enough soon, too.”

 

Rather abruptly, she wasn't alone. A second copy appeared at her shoulder and draped against it like she was a doorframe. And she didn't budge a bit under the added weight. This one was in green and gold but similarly transformed by secondhand upholstery and showy magic into an economical vision of impressive loveliness. “Hey, Lu, ready to leave?”

 

“What'd you do, Dweebzilla?”

 

“Nothing. How fast are you in those shoes?”

 

“What was my one request, Koko?”

 

The second elf turned identically dark and snapping eyes on Barry. “It was _be nice to the people_ but we downgraded it to _don't physically assault anyone_ because we're working on realistic expectations.”

 

“Did you?”

 

“Physically? Nah. And I just saw you smack a dude. Can we go now?”

 

“Natch. Good luck, Captain Science.”

 

“Uh, thanks, you too,” Barry said, feeling like an extra suddenly drawn into a scene much too big for him. “It was, um, nice to... meet you and your sister?”

 

Peals of crystalline laughter met this remark. He wouldn't find out what they were about for another three months, but he didn't really care. He just stared through the door after them until long after the green and blue were gone.

 


	4. Fuck All Haters

_Magnus didn't look up from the fire he was stoking at the sound of loudly displaced branches and the slight shudder of the earth in time with massive footsteps. A slightly messy but surprisingly intact fallow deer carcass landed wetly beside him and the stomping and rustling changed directions as Dupree wandered over to the stream beside their campsite to dunk his messy muzzle and then preen his feathers a bit. Taako's hat somehow never budged from its ridiculous little spot on the back of the massive head._

 

“ _He's gonna scare off everything in a fifty mile radius,” Merle muttered, eyeing the beast a bit balefully. It was true that Dupree was... a little on the dim side, and sometimes forgot to turn back until the end of the spell's duration forced the issue. It wasn't unusual to have to nudge him a little._

 

_Magnus turned and shouted over, “Hey, could you get Taako for me to get this guy ready for dinner?”_

 

_That was really all that was needed. Dupree looked at him a moment, mumbled something not very intelligible, and vanished with a ruffle of his red-bronze and black feathers, leaving Taako to catch at the hat, which was finally displaced by shrinking so fast._

 

_Taako was neither lazy nor squeamish where food was concerned, and he set to butchering the deer without protest. Magnus watched a moment and finally asked, “How come Dupree has a name?”_

 

“ _Huh?”_

 

“ _None of your other guys do. We don't call that seagull I keep finding in the kitchenette Jonesy or anything.”_

 

“ _His name is Taako Can't Find A Stepladder Because The Upholstery Mishap That Walks Like A Man Wandered Off With It Again.” Merle pretended not to hear that._

 

_Taako frowned, looking up from his messy job and making the rare concession of actually looking at someone he was talking to. “No idea. Dupree's rad?”_

 

“ _We could give them all names. Like the penguin. I like that little dude.”_

 

“ _Nope, not onboard.” Taako almost looked apologetic for a moment and then slipped back into cavalier. “Penguins are hilarious. That doesn't call for a unique identity.”_

 

_Magnus was pretty good at telling when Taako wasn't feeling sharey—this was a time more or less known as_ always— _but that did open another line of questioning. “How come you're mostly birds, anyhow?”_

 

“ _Dupree's not a bird, exactly. You might have noticed the tooth sitch.”_

 

“ _He's got feathers and big ol' bird feet. He's a bird.”_

 

“ _I like birds.” And that was that._

 

Barry stepped back into the clearing Lup had made for the Starblaster to land in, displacing a lot of ash on the way in. “Well, uh, our sweep more or less confirms the going theory. These things do seem to be a lot like the fossil archosaurs we knew from home.”

 

“Well, you knew,” Magnus said airily. “Those of us who aren't nerds...” He looked around, found only nerds, and shrugged.

 

“Right. Well, Taako couldn't find any sign that they were magically interfered with. They're just a thing that animals are like here.”

 

“Not to harsh your science vibe, babe, but you didn't, like, feed my brother to one while you were testing?”

 

“Uh.” Barry looked back over his shoulder, bit his lip, and shrugged evocatively. “Got a little weird.”

 

That got even Davenport and Lucretia's attention from where they sat looking over their preliminary charts on the deck. Taako-related subjects that were weirder than usual were always interesting. And rarely good.

 

“Guysguysguys!” When the voice preceded the elf, it was hard to guage how far away he actually was. Piercing. The only thing to do was wait a good thirty second before Taako burst into the clearing. His hair had pulled half out of its braid and the end of his robe was shredded. And he was carrying a very small... Whatever one of these was. Its fluffy feathers were the same texture as a chick's with faintly beelike stripes. “Look what we found!”

 

“...Are we gonna eat it?” Merle looked thoughtful. “Not a lotta meat on there, but...”

 

“Fuck off and die.” Taako didn't honor him with so much as a glance, holding up the squirmy little thing for Lup's inspection. “Barold said I could keep it.”

 

“I said there's no way you should do that, why would you ever.”

 

“You said words. We found this nest and there was a badgery-looking dude eating all the little guys, but it ran off when it saw us and this one was fine. But still all, y'know, wet and stumbly looking.”

 

Lup opened her mouth only after a few stunned seconds, giving Magnus time to barrel in before she could formulate an answer. “Awesome! Hey, Li'l Taako, welcome to the team!” He extended a friendly hand and nearly lost a fingertip. Being Magnus, he laughed.

 

“Nah, he gets his own deal. His name's Dupree.”

 

Davenport hadn't even finished climbing down the side of the ship and Taako and Magnus had both zeroed in on the squirming mass of fuzz and teeth. Lup looked uncharacteristically uncertain as she leaned over to Barry. “Okay, this is getting' real weird, real fast. That was our Grampa's cat's name.”

 

“Did Taako... like the cat?” Barry found this a little difficult to imagine, even watching the scene in front of him unfold.

 

“That cat hated everybody and did fucking nothing. I think it was his lifelong rolemodel. He made it tiny sandwiches.”

 

“We're boned, huh?”

 

Over the next few weeks, protests over Dupree mostly died down. The crew, more than most people even, could get used to anything. By the time a month had gone by, Dupree was up to Taako's waist, Taako had sustained three bruised ribs, a chunk out of his thigh, and the loss of a toe being played with, and Magnus wasn't much better off, but he more or less became part of the landscape. Even Lucretia stopped trying to protest after she caught Taako trying to get his hat to balance on the back of the elongate head.

 

There were moments, of course:

 

“Taako, your dang pet just about took my damn arm off!”

 

“The fuck do you need two arms for! You get it back in ten months, don't be a baby.”

 

Or:

 

“Your hellbaby fucked up half Barry's notes, Loser!”

 

“It's constructive criticism!”

 

Things were always crooked and ragged-edged when Taako found himself loving anything but his sister, but he made it work. It wasn't long before all the crew were referring to the predatory giants (still fluffy and bee-striped) they sometimes saw from a distance as Duprees. And he proved pretty handy when it came to freeing the Light of Creation from the young lava flow where it was lodged—Duprees were pretty good scramblers, turned out. Even with Taako clinging to his back and stroking the feathers on his neck.

 

Duprees grew pretty quick.

 

Magnus did offer. Fisher didn't care for having Dupree around and it wouldn't have been sustainable long term, but he did suggest it as the year neared its end. “It's gonna get pretty fucked around here. If we, like, put him on the deck, maybe you could at least get him somewhere they could protect him when the Hunger comes next world?” This one had no people, or none they'd been able to find.

 

Taako looked up from where he leaned against Dupree's side, feather impressions pressed into his cheek and a bit bleary as he gazed up from under the brim of the hat. If his eyes were a little red, Magnus pretended not to notice. “Nah, next world might be someplace shitty, and we know how big he's gonna get. We might not even get the Light next time.”

 

“Yeah, but...”

 

“He's a big boy. The grown-ups live by themselves, and he's real good at savaging stuff.” Indeed, he'd become a bit of a hazard simply by leaving bones and bits of viscera lying around. “Wouldn't be fair to him.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Magnus sat beside Taako. He was the only other member of the crew allowed in close proximity, and the beast only twitched a bit when Magnus put his head down next to Taako's and joined him in staring into the flawlessly starry sky.

 


	5. An Aunt He Was Very Close To

“ _Huh. This... this looks good.” Killian squinted a bit at the mirror._

 

“ _You don't have to sound that surprised. On a scale of one to ten, we're in eleventeen territory, right?” Taako's tone did not actually denote a question, so she let him have his rhetorical device._

 

“ _I don't actually care how my hair looks, so seemed safe to experiment.” This was a lie, but it was a lie of fairly recent vintage and still felt right on her tongue. Before Carey was really in the picture, she had only been faintly and generally aware that she had hair. Having very little sense of how looking fancy even worked was what had landed her in Taako's clutches in the first place._

 

“ _And now I'm deeply offended. How do you think I look this good?” Taako smoothed the end of his braid in a self-consciously casual gesture. It was like hanging around a bird of paradise that affected to be too cool to care if you watched._

 

“ _Don't you just kind of...” She looked him up and down for a moment. “Let it?” His hair was north of three feet long. It couldn't have been cut since he was five years old._

 

“ _Oh, my sweet summer child. Split ends, darling. Just because I let my crowning glory have its way doesn't mean it doesn't require upkeep.” He paused and frowned. “Not a look that would work for you. This, though, it's... kicky.”_

 

_Well, she wasn't going to argue. And it was definitely a thing that had been done to her hair, so if there were points for effort when she saw Carey tonight, she'd at least swing a silver star. “It'll, y'know, stay this way a while, though, right? I don't have to do this all the time?”_

 

_Taako looked like she'd kicked a puppy or suggested instant coffee. “Killian, Killian, Killian, your hair is the first statement you make. It says, check me out, the actual best person in the room, right here. That's worth a little upkeep. Unless you're Magnus. Then it's more of a cry for help.”_

 

“ _You do his hair... sideburns... whole head situation?”_

 

“ _To my everlasting shame. You know what he'd look like if I didn't tame that monstrosity? But I am but mortal. Which is a real oversight on somebody's part. Anyway, point is, hair is how you announce yourself.”_

 

“ _I thought the eyes are the window to the soul.”_

 

“ _Ew.”_

 

“ _...Right. Well, thanks, I guess. Owe you one. Bye?”_

 

“ _Later. Let me know when you come to your senses about the highlights.”_

 

The twins' passing was like a speeding train that was also somehow on fire. And screaming. Even to the ears of love it could grate a little most times, but at the moment, it was more of a relief than anything else. She'd infinitely rather listen to Taako screeching and Lup breaking things than her half sister's imperious little sniff.

 

“I find it comforting to imagine they take after their father, don't you?”

 

Ylva did not say _they look just like you but capable of joy_ , satisfying as that would be. “Well, we didn't get much of a chance to know him, but they remind me a lot of us at that age.” If by _us_ she meant _me and Nyria and not you_ , that was for her to know.

 

Sniff. “They've got to be hard on your father to have around.” Dagny must have practiced this in the mirror, making it almost sound like actual people conversation when she listed off exactly who she was related to and how so as best to distance herself from peasants like her step-father (and, always most importantly, the twins).

 

“Dad loves having his grandkids around. You know he's not up to much these days. I swear he only eats when they bring him their little burned muffins and scrambled egg disasters.” She smiled in actual fondness, almost forgetting Dagny for a moment.

 

There was a crash from the hall. “Exactly how long are you intending to keep them, again?”

 

“They. Are. Family.” Not that that was the only reason, but it was the only one that had a chance of penetrating Dagny's thick skull. She was almost at the end of her capacity for diplomacy. “Dad's family's been bringing up kids on this farm for generations.”

 

“This farm has been teetering on the edge of bankruptcy for generations, and I've seen the accounts. If you don't sell soon you won't have the option anymore. It'll still be a loss with that eyesore in the middle of things, but—”

 

“Eyesore.” Ylva didn't remember moving and was as startled as her sister when her mug banged against the table. “And what do you want me to do about it, go ahead and plant petunias in the bits that aren't still on fire? I'm sorry the _extraplanar incursion that killed our sister_ makes you look silly around the bridge club.”

 

She'd managed not to raise her voice, but she could feel Dagny's eyes on her, cold and predatory. This was how she always played. Stab and stab, calm and fish-eyed-cool, and when you finally lost your temper, count it a victory. “I'm just concerned, dear. What are you going to do about it? It's certainly hurting production.”

 

“Had a guy come down from the university and he said the fires would be out by next year,” she admitted. She had gone out and planted some hedges, just to keep dad and the kids from having to see it all the time. It was a problem. A reasonable person would be justified in being honestly concerned about it. She just couldn't take it from Herself.

 

There was cold silence in the room for a long moment, and a telling silence from the hall. If Taako and Lup were awake, then silence was generally bad news. Ylva hoped they were experimenting with new and exciting messes and not listening to this, but getting up to check would be handing her sister a victory. As it was, she waited out the silence and Dagny was the first to speak. Score.

 

“Was one of them wearing a skirt?”

 

“Well, it hasn't fit _me_ since boarding school, so I'm just glad someone's getting some use out of it.” She tried not to grin at shooting acid calm back at Dagny. Did not like the taste of her own medicine, that one.

 

She recovered fast, unfortunately. “They just seem to be running a little wild. It can't make things easier for you.”

 

“Well, how well adjusted would _you_ have been in their place?” She let a little more venom slip into the words, remembering full well how Dagny had still been reacting to her parents splitting up when she was well into her fifties. There had been a lot of tantrums.

 

“If my mother had gotten into sorcery and blown herself up along with her little _pet_? I think my imagination might just be failing me.”

 

“Nyria was a wizard, you stupid garbage fire.” She didn't really care about her raised voice at this point, and, admittedly, she'd chosen an odd point to make her last stand on. “I think you need to go.”

 

There it was, the _I win because I made you mad_ look. “Well, I did come to tell you I might have an interested—”

 

“Your interested buyers can all kiss my ass.”

 

“I wouldn't really want to show anyone around the place with the little savages in residence, anyway.”

 

“Good, because you're in no way invited to.”

 

“When was the last time you even managed to get their hair cut? The skirt was bad enough.”

 

“Out.”

 

With no way to take her dignity back (she wasn't used to Ylva not folding for the sake of the peace), Dagny finally retreated. Ylva sighed and moved to the front hall to watch her into her carriage—and to catch Lup around the waist and drag her back from the window before she could get off whatever she was preparing with those little waggles of chubby fingers.

 

“It was just a cantrip!”

 

“I don't know what that means, but we do not cast cantrips on people.”

 

“Shows how much you know. That's exactly what you do with cantrips.”

 

She was more amused than anything else, but you had to watch it with Lup. Give her and inch and that inch would soon be very on fire. “No more unsupervised library trips for you, young lady. Where's your brother?”

 

“Um.” Fortunately for Ylva, the twins were very bad liars. What she'd do if they figured out how deception worked when they got older she had no idea. Lup rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet a few times and finally said, hopefully, “With Grampa?”

 

“I am disappointed in you. That's the most easily falsifiable alibi in the house.” Alright, so maybe she wasn't the best fake parent. “Try again.”

 

“Attic.”

 

Ah, mischief central. And from the unpredictable one, too. (Lup caused more damage, as a rule. It was just... comprehensible damage.) She kept hold of Lup's hand to make sure she didn't try this cantrip again and took the stairs two at a time. Taako was standing on a steamer trunk, magical lights floating behind him and the night outside making a perfectly usable mirror out of the front window.

 

About six inches of sleek, black hair were already on the floor, and Taako stared back at them with wide, cornered eyed, scissors frozen mid-slice with about half his beloved locks still in place.

 

She wanted to grab him and hug him and tell him he was only ever supposed to look like himself, no matter what anyone said. She wanted to let Lup go back to the window and see if the carriage was still in cantrip range. She wanted to shout at something. But. Parenting.

 

“Nurse Lup, we have a hair surgery emergency. We need scissors. We need combs. Prep the operating theatre and get me sixty cc's of high fashion, stat.” They both stared at her for a long few seconds and she was afraid she'd made the wrong call, set up more tears for kids who'd already had too many of them. Then Lup darted for the dress-up box and began frantically pulling out variously useful accessories and Taako allowed himself to be lifted off the trunk and set down on the floor silently. The ragged slice had left him with about a handsbreadth of chin-length hair and the rest untouched. Thinking quickly, she used Lup as a second pair of hands to hold a comb straight on the diagonal and clipped the hair around one ear so short it was fuzzy, creating an asymmetrical undercut that was really very daring for someone three feet tall.

 

“Cool.” First thing he'd said since she caught him at it, but he was clear eyed as he admired himself in the window.

 

“Looks kinda like one your mom had in college, actually.” Not true, but the grin she got for it made the lie worth it, and Nyria would have approved, even if she hadn't been quite that daring.

 

“Me next!” Lup shoved him out of the way.

 

He shoved her back. “It's gotta be on the other side for you, so we're mirrors.”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Mirrors it is.” It went smoother this time. Taako was a much better improvised salon assistant, and starting on purpose simplified a lot of the smoothing she'd had to be so creative with. It was lucky Taako couldn't really see the back of his head.

 

_Aunt Dagny would be so jealous_ is a lie she does not tell, because she doesn't want to let her sister back in. Right now, in the safety of the attic and the lights her little wizards have crafted, all the cruelty of the world and of her sister in particular seems far, far away.

 


End file.
